“When you guys are grown, I’m getting an apartment in the city, overlooking the lake. I’ll have white carpet and a Dalmatian to keep me company. I’ll come to your house for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” That was my we-gotta-get-this-house-clean-company-is-coming frustration fantasy, when all four of my kids were teens. That was when the five of …
This post was originally published on Nanahood. You can find out more about Becky on her own site, From Where I Sit. Sign Up to receive her Thoughtful Thursdays newsletter via email. My first grandbaby’s photos lit up my phone. “First day of daycare,” my son-in-law captioned. I scrolled down past the photo of my darling three-month-old granddaughter giggling. Past those …
Our 29-year-old daughter, Liz, asked if she and her husband, Brian, could come over on a Wednesday night in early April. Sure, I said; they lived only thirty minutes away. But my husband Jim and I were surprised that our daughter and son-in-law wanted to trek across the city during rush hour to our house …
